


Dive Carefully

by tuithemoon



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Established Relationship, High School, M/M, Rivalry, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Swim Team, Zuko has an undercut because I'm weak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuithemoon/pseuds/tuithemoon
Summary: There's nothing wrong with a little friendly competition in the pool.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	Dive Carefully

**Author's Note:**

> rated T for swearing and one bad innuendo. 
> 
> thank you so much to my beta amelia who read this at 1am! you are incredible <3  
> i wrote this to take a break from the slow-burn zukka fic i'm writing, so stay tuned!

Sokka drinks in the applause like he was born for it.

The air hums with the promise of summer and Sokka breathes in the smell of chlorine. He adores the energy at his fingertips, the buzz when he snaps his goggles over his eyes. Nothing beats the anticipation before a race (he can only assume -- it’s not like training tolerates alcohol or weed). He vaguely hears Katara, Aang and Suki scream his name from the bleachers, sees a bright blue banner fluttering in the corner of his eye, and he can’t help but chuckle. Sure, it’s not the regionals, just a practice race to stoke friendly competition, but he appreciates his friends’ enthusiasm. A voice in Sokka’s head, perhaps his coach or the perfectionist streak in him, reminds him that there is something to gain from this race. All the hours of training, the diet, the missed parties -- they’re worth it when he gets to royally kick Zuko’s ass in the pool.

He looks over to the lane on the right and finds Zuko, Mr Perfect Posture and Annoyingly Defined Muscles, waving at Toph. (Sokka hears her holler, “Make me proud! I made a bet with Katara!” He makes a mental note to boast to her when he wins.) Zuko turns back, gaze fixed on the other end of the pool and a win in sight, but he notices Sokka staring at him. He smiles like there’s a secret between them.

“May the best man win,” Zuko says.

Sokka laughs. He finds it amusing when he speaks like a British butler. (Fun fact: Zuko did in fact have a British butler when he was a kid. Sokka knows this for no particular reason.)

“I will,” he says gleefully.

There’s a countdown, a high pitched whistle and then a current of cyan swimsuits, Sokka and his teammates submerged in water, their peers roaring with the splash. His skin is ice cold one second and indifferent the next. His arms and legs move methodically, practiced and refined, still hungry for the finish line. This is natural to him but it’s a chase too. The water is thrusting him forward, swelling in his ears and falling away when he takes another breath, body melting into the artificial blue as if he’s a part of it. His limbs don’t ache the way they used to. His heart beats to a steady rhythm, racing to beat the timekeeper’s stopwatch. He’ll make it. 

As he nears the edge of the pool, Sokka extends his arm one last time, drawing inwards when he feels the rough tile. He emerges dramatically because the crowd loves a performer and -- sure, he’ll be honest -- he’s a bit of a sucker for attention. He gets the reaction he wants. There’s a clamour of unsynchronised clapping and his friends, ever classy and supportive, start to wolf-whistle.

Zuko seems to have reached the finish line at the same time as Sokka, and expectantly waits for the confirmed results. Coach Bato confers with the timekeepers before lifting his megaphone to his mouth.

“Congratulations, Sokka!”

Katara is the first to cheer. 

Sokka rises gracefully from the water and bows, trying to forget how cold he suddenly feels. Water drips from his body and pools at his feet, but he’s too busy indulging in his peers’ affection to care. Just as he blows a kiss to Aang who dramatically swoons, Zuko pulls himself up and out of the pool and walks over to him. It’s kind of unfair, how good he looks when he pulls off his cap. Sokka wills himself not to faint; he hasn’t seen Zuko all day and therefore didn’t know that he apparently got an undercut on the weekend. Zuko squeezes Sokka's shoulder, and he ignores a sudden return of adrenaline when he grants him a “congratulations” followed by an “enjoy it while it lasts.” He turns to watch Zuko walk towards the hallway that leads back to the rest of the school, his eyes trailing from his back to his calves… and yeah, Sokka needs to get to his towel before something embarrassing happens. Now Zuko looks back and catches him staring, again. He gives him a smile, the _I’m never going to hear the end of this_ smile because legally, under the Great Laws of the Swim Team, Sokka now has the right to trash-talk Zuko for a month. Sokka pulls off his own cap and heads for the changing room. His other teammates take turns ruffling his hair and patting his back.

“Tell me, Zuko, how does it feel to lose?” Sokka asks as he enters, half-gloating and half-joking. Okay, mainly gloating.

Zuko shakes his head, letting out a brief and breathless laugh in disbelief. “It never fails to amaze me that every time I see you, you are somehow more of a dick.”

The other guys give their “oohs” and carry on to their lockers. 

“What can I say? It’s one of my many talents, along with _beating you_ and being devastatingly hot.”

Sokka and Zuko go to their respective lockers, conveniently situated next to each other so that they can continue their sarcastic bickering long after the race. Sokka exchanges his towel for his bag, pulling out the sweatpants he brought today and an old hoodie. 

“The only reason why I’m not wiping that smug look off your face,” Zuko continues, wrapping his towel firmly around his waist as he looks for his change of clothes, “is because --” He pauses with a confused expression.

“Something wrong there, bud?” Sokka says with a shit-eating grin because he can’t help himself. Zuko looks closer into his locker as if he’ll miraculously find his bag hidden in the empty space.

“You dick!” Zuko groans. “Where did you put my clothes?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“One of these days, Sokka, I’m gonna punch you, square in the teeth.”

“Nah, you won’t.” Sokka leans in, revels in the heat between them, skin damp and cheeks still flushed from the exertion of the race. He says quietly, “You like my mouth too much.”

Zuko shakes his head. Sokka pulls out Zuko’s bag from his locker and hands it to him. 

“’Til next time." Sokka is about to exit the changing room, but Zuko pulls his arm back. 

“Wait for a bit. I wanna ask you something.”

Sokka stays and chats with his other teammates while Zuko gets dressed. Sokka realises that Zuko’s really taking his time, waiting for all their other teammates to leave, and when it’s finally just them in the changing room, he tugs Sokka towards him by the string of his hoodie. Zuko’s hands settle on his waist and Sokka’s instinctively move to Zuko’s chest. They’ve been here before. They know the drill. There’s a lull in this new familiarity between them.

“So,” Zuko says, “I believe I owe you a date.”

Sokka looks at him and tries to control the affection growing in his chest. “Actually, we agreed that if _you_ won, then I’d have to go on a date with you, but because _I_ won, you have to say that I’m the better swimmer.”

“Fine, you’re a better swimmer than me,” Zuko forces out quickly but makes a show of holding his fingers crossed. “Now, can I take you out tomorrow night?” 

Sokka has to remember not to dive straight into Zuko, remind himself to drag this out, for the fun of it. Always the showman. “You’re kind of clingy, you know?” 

“Yeah, you love it,” Zuko says with a quiet confidence, the occasional certainty that only comes out around the people he trusts. It makes Sokka dizzy sometimes. 

He almost replies, “Yeah, I do,” but he just kisses Zuko instead, feeling relieved to press himself against him. Sokka knows Zuko likes it when they’re alone so that he can try to make him moan, and Sokka doesn’t mind giving him what he wants. Today, though, he pulls away before they can reach that point, feels the resistance of Zuko’s arms as they lean towards the door. 

“I’m going to Aang’s for Mario Kart and dumplings. You should join.”

“I can’t tonight.” Sokka huffs slightly. “Sorry, I promised Toph I’d help her with our history homework.”

“You’re gonna pass up getting destroyed in Mario Kart by me for the sake of Mr Wan’s history homework? Nerd.”

“I’m the nerd? You get better grades than me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Sokka admits with a smile.

“But … tomorrow?” Zuko asks. They’re back to the nervousness that always falls over Zuko whenever he’s unsure if Sokka actually wants to go out with him. 

Sokka gives him one last kiss, ignoring the part of his brain that tells him to just stay here with Zuko for the rest of the afternoon. “Tomorrow. Text me.” They leave the room together and part when Sokka makes a turn for the football field. 

Before he can even register their presence, Katara and Aang nearly pummel Sokka into the ground, whooping and squeezing him until he’s struggling to breathe. Suki snaps a photo that he hopes she will delete. Katara and Aang release their bear grip a few seconds later, and the exhaustion suddenly hits him. He can’t wait to eat. 

“Congrats, Sokka,” Suki says. “You did so well, Katara said she’d splurge and get us all coffee cake from the bakery near Aang’s place.”

“We never had the conversation,” Katara chimes in.

“We just did.”

Sokka slings an arm around Aang and looks up. The sun is glaring down on them and the sky is a mellow shade of blue. It feels quiet, even as Katara asks Suki if they can get chocolate cake instead because if she tastes anything coffee-flavoured her heart might explode. 

“So, how’s Zuko?” Aang’s question is innocent enough, but his eyebrow wiggling is anything but. The only reason Sokka and Zuko haven’t told their friends yet is because they know the teasing they’d receive would have no end, and if they’re being honest, Zuko is a little scared of Katara, who will no doubt threaten death if he ever dared to hurt Sokka. Even though they’re sure everyone knows anyway, for now, they like being in their own little bubble. It’s just them. That’s all they really need. 

Sokka is still a competitive man, though, and he’s got the illusion of a rivalry to uphold. 

“Zuko,” he says, “is second best.”


End file.
